I’m starting to revisit work of mine from the past few years – a lot of flash fiction, short pieces based mostly on prompts found or given online. To kickstart my plan to share more original work, I wanted to throw one of them back into the world today.

The below was written in 2020, during a period where a lot of time on my hands meant a lot of anxious energy directed into hobbies and passions. Hopefully, the enthusiasm that overtook the mounting fear at the time is what shines through.

It seems right that I came across this piece now, a book and a half into reading Adam Silvera’s Infinity Son series, a seamless blend of fantasy world-building and superhero fiction. Some of the stuff I want to share here will be part of something more substantial, but for now I want to start out with something contained, something that opens up questions but doesn’t have the answers to give you.

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“A power outage.“

He’s getting away. I can’t fly fast enough to grab him. Ducking around the next office block, I manage to get in front of him. His jetpack lets him move faster than I can, but it’s not quite as responsive as he needs it to be. Not yet.

I drop my speed and reach out my hand to grab his sleeve. There’s no way he can stop in time to move away. Out of the corner of my eye, I see that the sun is setting. The chase must have gone on for a lot longer than I’d realised. Luckily, it’s about to be over. My fingers graze the jacket and suddenly he isn’t in front of me.

I’m falling, and fast. The sun is nowhere near setting, but the sky is darkened and red. The pavement is getting closer and closer, and no matter how hard I try there’s nothing I can do to slow myself. Above me, he’s cackling, following me as closely as he can to watch me crack open against the tarmac.

It worked. I’d been so sure that his device to dull our powers was fair enough from completion that chasing him out of the apartment had kept us safe for the time being. Rolling over in the air, I lock eyes with him and realise I was wrong.

I also realise that he’s a fool. He flies ever closer, desperate to be close enough to see me die, and I grab him. Panicking, he pulls upwards, yanking me with him. I close my eyes as we spiral into the air, flinching as I hear metal scrape against concrete and feel my grip release.

Skidding painfully along a roof and hear something scratch against the concrete beside me. Opening my eyes I see a chunk of metal and wiring spitting out sparks as I find my footing. Looking around, I see him flying around in random directions, the jetpack completely out of control.

A few moments pass before I get a grip on the situation, and as I come to realise what’s going to happen, the jetpack stops working altogether and he drops from view. The fall is a lot faster when you aren’t living it, and his scream is joined by a handful of others before going silent while the other voices intensify.

Flexing my muscles and my mind, I find that I still can’t lift myself off of the ground. But, I remind myself, at least that wasn’t me.